


Leave Me Alone

by cosmic__boi



Series: Bend the Nightmare [3]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arkham Asylum, Arkham Asylum Patient Jerome Valeska, Arkham Asylum is Terrible, Attempt at Humor, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Male Friendship, Minor Jonathan Crane/Jervis Tetch, No Incest, Pre-Slash, i hate that i have to tag that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27268834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmic__boi/pseuds/cosmic__boi
Summary: How did the J-squad all meet and become friends?Leave Me Alone - IDKHOWPrequel to my series Bend the Nightmare
Relationships: Jonathan Crane & Jerome Valeska, Jonathan Crane & Jervis Tetch, Jonathan Crane & Jervis Tetch & Jerome Valeska, Jonathan Crane/Jervis Tetch, a little bit - Relationship, more just hints
Series: Bend the Nightmare [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788205
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	1. Prologue

The circus was in town, and Jonathan had never met a bigger clown than the one in front of him. 

The other kid had flaming red hair and a maniacal grin on his face, and was chucking empty cans at the wall of the alley. Jonathan was sat peeking over the edge of the tiny balcony of the cruddy apartment his father and he currently lived in. The day was incredibly boring, with school out and Jonathan having no respite from his father’s ramblings about fear and evolution. His father wouldn’t let him go out, fearing he would run off and die somewhere, so Jonathan was stuck in the hot apartment trying to ignore his father’s scientific mumbo-jumbo. Not that he had many friends to go and hangout with, anyways. So a boy in the alley below making rude comments and laughing at his own jokes while chucking trash around was his best source of entertainment.

After a bit, the boy looked up and spotted Jonathan, nodding off a bit in the summer heat. 

“Oi! Hey, you!” Jonathan jerked awake and looked around before realizing it was the crazed ginger who had yelled. “You wanna come down here or what?”

Jonathan turned around to the apartment. His father was in the lab, deep into his work. He could maybe slip out for a bit… maybe just say he was well within eyesight if he got caught… and he was  _ incredibly _ bored… he just wanted someone to talk to… 

He turned back to the alley boy and nodded before quietly scuttling out of the apartment. Jonathan made his way down the stairs and cautiously entered the alley, hunched in his hoodie. 

“Hey! It’s balcony boy!” The boy waved. He was tall, and looked older than Jonathan. Not that Jonathan wasn’t tall, he was taller than pretty much everyone in his class. “Hey, how old are you, anyways?”

Jonathan mumbled something. 

“What?” 

“I’m 13.”

“Oh sick, I’m 16. I’m Jerome.” He stuck out a hand to Jonathan. 

Jonathan tentatively pulled his hand out of his pocket and shook Jerome’s hand. “I’m Jonathan.”

“Cool, broski. Hey, wanna see how high I can chuck the cans on the wall?”

“Bet I could do it higher.”

“Oh, my bro, you are  _ so _ on.”

The afternoon waned into the early evening as the two boys hung out in the alley. They talked while they threw stuff around or at each other. Jerome was from the circus and hated his mother and uncle. Jonathan was living with his father who hated air conditioning, apparently. Jerome hated capitalism and the government. Jonathan somewhat agreed. Jerome had never been in an actual school because he always traveled with the circus. Jonathan thought public school sucked anyways. 

Jerome sometimes wondered what the point of it all was. Jonathan agreed, and pointed out that maybe there was no point other than what they made the point be. Jerome liked this idea a lot, and decided that there was no point to his own life and that was great. Jonathan held off on denouncing his life’s purpose but had no idea what it could be. 

As evening drew on them, Jerome said he had to get back before the show, or his mom would yell at him. 

“Are you staying in town for more than tonight?”

Jerome tossed a ball of aluminum foil he had found in the dumpster between his hands as he eyed the bricks in front of him. “No, we’ve been here for three days, so we’ll be moving again tomorrow. We come by Gotham, I think, ‘bout every two years?”

“Oh,” Jonathan tossed his shaggy hair out of his eyes. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, it really does. But Imma miss you, bro,” Jerome laughed, face splitting into that wide grin. He ruffled Jonathan’s hair affectionately. “Fun hanging out with you.”

“Yeah,” Jonathan gave a small, tentative smile back. “Good luck with your mom and uncle, clown.”

“Who you callin’ a clown?” Jerome gave a wild laugh, throwing his head back before doubling over. “I crack myself up.”

Jonathan smiled despite himself. Jerome finally straightened and smiled at him. They shared a look before Jonathan held out a fist. Jerome eyed it, almost sizing him up, before tentatively returning the fist bump. When there was no trick, Jerome grinned. 

“See ya’ around, kid,” Jerome left the alley, waving behind him.

“See ya’!” Jonathan walked back to the stairs and jogged upwards to his apartment. He quietly opened the door and peeked inside. His father was still in the laboratory. Of course.


	2. T is for Trauma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another update on the J-Squad adventures.
> 
> I'm not too satisfied with how this chapter turned out, it's honestly not my best writing, but some content is better than no content, I guess. Hopefully I'll get another chapter out soon, I'm feeling somewhat :･ﾟ✧inspired:･ﾟ✧.

Arkham sucked. 

Well, that was just common knowledge in Gotham. But for someone who was stuck in that hellhole, it seemed especially relevant. The fact was stamped everywhere- from the crusty food to the stone-tablet beds to the barely-functioning toilets. Jonathan Crane was well-acquainted with the decrepit building, having been transferred to various rooms over the course of his four-year stay. And boy, had that stay been a fun trip.  His father had been killed in front of him, and he had been sent to Arkham sometime between ages 14 and 15, where he stayed mostly in his padded cell and never interacted with the other inmates. When he had recently escaped and become the Scarecrow, he had been chucked right back into that hell hole, but at least since he had turned 18 recently, he was allowed to  _ talk _ to others in the adult ward, even if they  _ were _ crazy. 

He’d only recently gotten out, mostly thanks to Steve Bucemi, or at least his criminal look-alike. Of course, Steve had also gotten him some more ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* trauma *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ , but hey, what else was new? Nowadays, he was more himself, other days… Other days were what the doctors referred to as his ‘bad days’. Like the rest of his time was just peachy fun time. 

But the Scarecrow made even his worst days downright horrible. 

See, Scarecrow liked to have fun, except that usually consisted of causing torment. And in a lonely cell, with no one else around to torture, Scarecrow would just turn to Jonathan. He’d wake up some mornings, his voice torn hoarse from all the screaming. Scratches ran up and down his arms, even worse than the ones from before the Scarecrow. 

Because, before the Scarecrow and he were one, Scarecrow would mostly hang out in the corner of his eyes, constantly there. But now… Scarecrow could take over and fully torment Jonathan, bringing his worst nightmares to life. But at least he wasn’t hurting anyone in his cell (other than himself). He just had to stay away from others during recreational time.

Not like he minded much. A quiet lunch while watching the latest drama go down, a chill break to sketch while listening to the latest news that was on the TV. The only times that Jonathan considered a threat were when they were all forced outside to get some sunlight and ‘fresh air’. Those times, Jonathan just sat on a broken concrete wall with his head down, limp matt of hair covering his face, and waited for it to be over. As long as he didn’t make eye-contact, hopefully he wouldn’t get attacked. Without his fear gas, he was a pretty weak opponent. 

He didn’t even want to fear gas anyone, that was Scarecrow’s thing. He had never wanted to hurt anybody, he didn’t mean to end up here…

Jonathan’s thoughts were cut short by movement right next to him. A figure sat beside him and, before Jonathan or Scarecrow could react, jammed an earpiece into Jonathan’s ear. It connected through a strand to a tiny little iPod, poking out of the Arkham uniform’s pocket. The inmate pressed play, and music flooded directly into Jonathan’s head for the first time in four years. 

_ There might be something outside your window _

_ But you'll just never know _

_ There could be something right past the turnpike gates _

_ But you'll just never know _

Hold on, Jonathan knew this song. “Planetary (GO!)” by My Chemical Romance… Of course!

God, he missed listening to MCR in his room, waiting for sleep to overtake him, drifting away from his own shitty life, with his shitty dad and shitty school. He closed his eyes, letting the song overtake him, letting it pass through his mind and down to his heart, to his chest, curling up inside him like a well-awaited friend. 

The song ended, and the earpiece was yanked out by the chord by the owner. 

“Listen,” came the hoarse voice. “I know you’re a comatose, but what'd ya think of the song?”

Comatose? 

Jonathan turned his head and angled it so he could barely see the inmate through his hair. Flaming red hair, stitches on his face, a wide grin. It couldn’t be. The one and only. Sure, he’d heard of him on the news, and Jonathan knew he had been in Arkham before, but… now that they were both in the criminal ward of the asylum… their paths would have crossed eventually. 

Jonathan’s mouth opened, and a shaky, hoarse voice came out, from lack of use. “Alley boy?”

“Huh? What’re you talkin’ about? You really are crazy-” Jonathan lifted his hair for Jerome to see his face. “WAIT A SECOND!” Jerome jumped off the wall and pointed at him. “BALCONY BOY! Jo- John, right??”

“Jonathan,” he choked out with a laugh. “Jerome?”

“The one and only!” Jerome laughed, slapping his thigh. “Jonathan, my broski, imagine seein’ your ugly face around here!”

“Whose face are you calling ugly?”

“Ayeee,” Jerome scuffed Jonathan’s hair. He sat back down next to Jonathan and handed him the iPod. “Here, pick the next song.” 

Jonathan took the ancient device, scrolling through the songs. He smiled, face cracking a bit at the gesture. He clicked a song, and ‘Teenagers’ by MCR began to play through the near-broken earbuds. The two sat on the wall, listening to music, letting it wash over them. Jonathan felt something in his chest, a sense of… hope. Hope he hadn’t had in four years. A friend. Someone to break the monotony. Someone who's crazy could handle Jonathan’s crazy. Someone who could… potentially even handle Scarecrow. Who wasn’t afraid of Jonathan, and could hold a conversation with him. Yes, it had been years since their singular conversation, but it was something, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, are we just going to ignore the fact that Jonathan is still a teenager in Season 4? As in either 17 or 18 years old? And traumatized beyond belief? Because I feel very strongly about that, and hate that they never addressed this.
> 
> And tell me he wouldn't 100% listen to MCR.


End file.
